A Silent Dinner
by KatAztropheE-d'-nutCasE
Summary: England invites America over hoping to learn some of the plans he made for invasion. Instead, England states a different story to America. For the first time, Iggy cries. One shot.


A SILENT DINNER

I invited that numbskull America over for dinner. That ungrateful brat! Even clarified if I cooked it, but no, I asked Italy to cook for us. I invited him over so I can uncover his secret plans of attacks towards me. It's not that I'm affectionate or that I cared deeply for him, it's...just...AHHHHRGHHHH!

"England! I brought some burgers over in case you made those wretched scones again! They tasted like petrified rats!", America bursts open the door.

"Do you even know how to knock?! How dare you criticize my cooking! It's not like you're better than me or anything!", I roared, feeling my eyes turn to white.

"S...Seriously England, don't use that kind of face to me..._it still gives me nightmares!_"America hugged himself, slightly deformed.

I looked at him with shocked eyes. I saw the little America lost in the woods, nibbling everything he saw. Even though I scarred him with a horrid face I made, he still chose me over France (Which I still found wise, considering what might have happened if he joined him). "Hey England? What's up?", he waved a gloved hand in front of my eyes.

"Nothing, let's eat, Italy made us some Bolognese. I had to scare the living shit out of him before I convinced him to cook for us tonight" I blandly replied, motioning him to follow me.

We sat in the dining table eating in silence until he broke the silence, "Hey, did you know...". I raised my eyes to see his pitiful face. "...that I finally made a weapon that could beat the crap out of you?", he slurped the pasta as I stared at him with horror. "H...Huh? Really now, your ideas are too (stupid) splendid to be wasted on killing me, don't you think?", I managed to say before I downed some red wine down my throat.

I looked at him stuffing the burgers he brought with him with a tinge of happiness. After such sight, I began to reminisce those times when he was still a little boy. Where I still carry him in my arms.

"America, what happened to us?", I asked while I stared at the ceiling. I feel his shocked eyes on me but said nothing. I sneaked a peek at his face; he wore a painful expression that I've never seen before.

Years back...

"Hey big brother, do you think I'll be stronger than you someday?", little America ran around me in circles. I laughed, "Yes you will chap, I bet one day, you'll take me on and win".

He looked at me with utmost sincerity dancing in his eyes, "I don't want to do that. I will take care of you when I get stronger than you someday". He jumped towards me and I caught him in my arms, "I love you big brother". I smiled and hugged him back, "I love you too, America".

"England!", he screamed as I snapped out of my reverie.

I jolted up and looked at him with shock, "What?". He pointed at my cheek, "Why are you crying?". I ran a finger over my cheek and examined the teardrop on my finger, "Dust got in my eyes, no big deal". He came over to my side and check me if I'm okay, "Good, nothing's wrong". That goofy face of his occupied my sight, and it made the pain in my chest worse.

Back then...

"Waaaaah! It hurts! Stop it big brother!", America cried.

"You're a strong little man, America, I know you can handle it", I cooed as I dabbed an alcohol soaked cotton ball on his injured knee. He cried and cried even though I finished dressing his wounds.

To calm him down, I made some hot chocolate with little marshmallows on top. He would drink it all up and smile with chocolate smudged all over his little face. I always wipe it off and tell him, "Drink like a gentleman would, you really are hopeless".

I sighed as my little reminiscing stopped when America invited me over to the parlour. He literally dragged me to there by the hair, "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?".

He threw me to a plush chair and inched closer, "You've been acting strange lately". I stared at him unblinking as he got nearer and nearer until our noses touched. I merely stared at him. His hand loosening my tie and opened a few buttons, "Can you breathe now?".

I shook my head. I lay my head on his robust shoulders, "Am I a bad big brother?".

He distanced himself from me a bit and looked at me with shocked eyes, "No...you're a great brother, it's just that, I wanted to make it on my own. I don't want to trouble you always and I don't want you to always hover over me protectively. I...I want to be strong like you". I stared at him with shock. He sat beside me and began to examine my fingers, "Amer-".

"That night when I started that war, I wanted my own freedom. I wanted to make you proud of me. So I pulled myself together and aged quickly when you were away. Plotted that Independence war and...I think I would've lost if you could've used more of your sword skills. Sorry if I make you feel that way", he bent his head down, as if praying.

I smiled and patted him, which looked hilarious because of his massive built and height, "I'm proud of you, I've always been". He raised his head up and gave me a big goofy smile he makes, "Yeah! Since I'm way too cool and too great and too awesome and too-", I covered his babbling mouth with my hand. "Don't ruin the moment", I smiled darkly.

"Oh yeah, you said there's something that you wanted to tell me", he asked out of the blue. I panicked, I can't tell him that I plan to destroy his plans on invading me. I looked over the place and my eyes landed on a book of evil magic on the coffee table. I took it and handed it to him.

"I...uh...wanted to give you my cookbook".

HAHAHAHAHA! No wonder Iggy's cooking is evil and deadly. First hetalia fiction ever, =)


End file.
